Standing watch
by jibber59
Summary: There are lots of ways to show people that you care. (Just an idea I had that didn't seem to fit in anywhere else, so it gets to be its own little piece.)


Chris walked slowly toward the tavern. He debated with himself whether or not to go in. It would be so much easier to go home and get drunk. Just pass out on the floor, and with any luck, not wake up until the weekend was over.

But it was, in so many ways, harder to get drunk there. He'd be surrounded by the memories that usually comforted him but today, ate away at him. The photos on the shelves, smiling ghosts. The first year he'd had to replace them after smashing the frames and tearing the contents to shreds. The next couple of years, at least it was only the frames.

Then there was the fact that he would be alone out there, isolated and solitary. And, as he also recollected from the first few years, far too close to guns and ammo. A timely phone call from Buck that first night had intervened, and in subsequent years the depression hadn't been quite so deep. Still, slipping back was always a possibility. Less so now. The men who had dogged his every step today were the main reason for that.

It started shortly after he had reluctantly forced himself out of bed. If he hadn't needed to take care of the horses, he wasn't certain he would have bothered. Buck had been by far too early in the morning with a horrible take out breakfast. Nothing but grease and calories. Bad for the health, good for the soul.

The others had made a painfully deliberant effort to keep him busy all day. It was obvious they'd been stockpiling chores at the office all with the purpose of distracting him throughout to the day. JD coached him on the latest 'improvements' to the Bureau data base. After 90 minutes of spreadsheets, input formats and formula chains, Chris was more confused than ever. He offered to go over it again, but the patented Larabee glare was enough to back him off.

There was no respite though. Josiah was in his office next, with an armload of profile updates and reviews. Two hours went by relatively quickly but when it was done Chris was more than ready for lunch, coffee, and aspirin, not necessarily in that order.

Buck was back on call for the lunch. Obviously, he was in charge of the feeding responsibilities for the day. At least if afforded a quiet break, just the two of them. After a talking throughout the meal about the ranch, plans for next weeks poker game, and Buck's current dating situation, the conversation stalled. Over coffee, Buck tentatively brought up the elephant in the room.

"How are you doing?"

"Well, I won't say I'm fine, but I'm okay."

"Yeah?"

"Better than past years, not as good as I'd like to be."

"So it gets easier?"

"No. I don't think the anniversary of losing Sarah and Adam will ever get easy. But it gets less – I don't know – vivid. Just kind of a dull ache."

"I miss them too. I know it's not the same."

"Doesn't make it less real."

Buck sipped at his coffee for a minute. "Anything else we can do for you?"

"What you're doing is working. I assume the others have the afternoon planned for me?"

"Gee, don't really know."

Chris's look showed he didn't believe that for a second. They sat in the silence old friends can enjoy, while finishing off their coffee.

Vin was waiting. Chris wondered how he could possibly take more than 10 minutes to review the weapons purchase plans, but almost 2 hours later he had his answer. He also had more knowledge about gun sights, scopes, stocks, ammo and cartridges than he ever expected he would need. Nathan swooped in to finish the day, with case summaries and projected assignment outlines.

5 o'clock arrived none too soon. He'd made it through. Only Ezra had left him alone for the duration, although he was fully aware the agent had been watching the proceedings, no doubt ready to fill in any void that was needed. That tended to be his role more often than not.

Chris grabbed his coat but stopped when he spotted Buck waiting. "No Buck. I don't want to go out for dinner. I'm pretty much done for the day."

"Still have a long evening."

"I know. I'm a big boy, I can handle it." Buck mulled it over for a moment, realizing he really couldn't stop Chris from doing what he wanted. "You'll call me?"

"If I have to, but don't expect it."

As Chris walked through the Tavern parking lot, it occurred to him he may well be calling on Buck for a ride home. He stood by the door a moment before admitting to himself there really had never been any doubt about his plan to spend the evening here. He and Sarah came here often, especially before Adam was born. It wasn't their place. That was a small restaurant near the lake. But this was a place they enjoyed.

It took a few minutes for his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. It was busy tonight, enough that he wouldn't be fussed over, but not so hectic as to be distracting. That was one of the things they'd always liked about it.

He found a table at the side and sat down. The waitress appeared almost instantly, taking his order for a beer. To keep anyone from second-guessing him, he added on an order of nachos. He didn't expect to actually be eating much.

Less than 15 minutes later he was ordering his second drink. He pulled out his keys as the waitress got closer. "Want you to hold onto these for me, just in case. I'll come back for them in the morning." He started to hand them to a when another voice intervened.

"That won't be necessary my dear. I'll take responsibility for these. And for him." She looked at the newcomer, and then back at her customer. Thinking how relieved she was to not be the recipient of that glare, she hustled away from the table.

"What the hell are you doing here Standish?" He growled in a low voice. If it was intended to intimidate, it didn't appear to have been successful.

"I am enjoying a cup of coffee and a very good book."

"Well enjoy them somewhere else. I don't need the company."

"Good, as I have no intention of providing any." He put the keys into his pocket. "I will be at the seat in the corner when you are ready to leave. Assuming I ascertain you are capable, which appears to be highly improbable at this juncture, I will return these to you at that time."

"And if I'm not?"

"The guest room in my home is made up. You may sleep there and, when I deem you to be capable, I shall return the keys to you." He made his way back to his table after offering a casual salute.

Chris watched him leaving, cursing under his breath. The nerve of him. Spying. Following him. He drank down half the beer, waving the waitress over for another. "When did he –" pointing to Ezra in the corner – "get here? Right after me, or just now?"

"Actually, about 30 minutes before you. Said he was waiting for someone." She looked at his almost empty glass. "You want another?" He nodded, saying nothing.

Before? How could he get here before? Freaky coincidence? No, too much of a stretch. Besides, Ezra had told them he was waiting for someone. Obviously, he was that someone.

He was sufficiently preoccupied that he didn't consciously notice when his next beer arrived. Ezra knew before he did what his plans were. Man was damn unnerving, no two ways about it. He looked over to the corner again. Ezra appeared to be immersed in what he was reading, but Chris had no doubt if he made a move to leave, he would be on his feet in an instant.

Why couldn't they all just leave him the hell alone? _Because_ , he heard Sarah's voice clearly in his head, _they care about you – you stubborn jackass. Sit back and appreciate it._

Chris fought to hide the grin. She was right, but then she usually was. He needed to learn to accept the simple fact that this was not interference. This was friendship. Possibly more than he deserved right now, as he glanced over to the far corner again. He'd known Ezra for little more than a year. The shortest time of any in the group. Yet there he sat, drinking coffee that was nowhere near up to his standards and straining his eyes reading in the dim light provided. Why? To make sure Chris didn't do anything stupid. To support him, the best way he could.

He stood, picking up the beer and his jacket. Ezra didn't rise, but Chris could see the small shift in body language. He didn't lift his head, or make any noticeable changes at all, but Ezra was fully aware of his approach. Sure enough, he never looked up before putting down the book and picking up his coffee. Chris pulled out the other seat at the table. "So this was your assignment. The night shift?"

"I reiterate, I had no assignment. I simply chose to spend the evening with a fascinating book in an establishment that could provide a good dinner and fine coffee."

"Food here is adequate, the coffee sucks, and you haven't turned a page since you sat back down."

"I am a slow reader."

"Bull. This right here is why you left me alone for the day."

"The others appeared to be dominating your schedule for the day. I had no opportunity, or need, to intrude.

"And what would've qualified as need Ezra?"

"Work. Of course."

Chris looked at his agent closely, thinking back at the day. Denials aside, Ezra had been watching him. Waiting. But for what? He shifted in his seat, leaning back, sizing up what he knew and suddenly the light went on. "You were on standby. You were my escape valve." Ezra looked puzzled, but Chris didn't buy the act. "Tell me Ezra, what were you going to do that would give me the excuse I needed to let loose and yell, or worse, if I needed to?"

"I have no idea what –" he paused under the scrutiny then smiled. "I had a number of ideas in mind, dependent on my judgment of the nature of the need."

"Not the first time you've done it, is it?" Chris could now recall a number of times when anger at one source suddenly became anger at Ezra. At least a few of those times the original outburst would've caused real trouble with his bosses or worse, civilians.

"You do realize verbal punching bag isn't in your job description?"

Ezra merely shrugged slightly. "One should always go with their strengths. Getting on people's nerves is a skill at which, I am sure you would agree, I excel."

Chris shook his head in disapproval, with a bit of self-directed anger tossed in. "You don't deserve it."

"It doesn't bother me."

"It should. We're gonna have to work on that." He forward, resting his forearms on the table. "So tell me Ezra, how'd you know I'd be here?"

Ezra favoured him with another sly grin. "Are you asking a magician to reveal his secrets? Surely you know better."

"I didn't even know I was coming here."

"You came here last year."

Chris narrowed his gaze. "You'd been with us about a month at that point, how could you possibly know that."

"My sustained enjoyment of the opportunity to continue breathing rests strongly in a finely developed observational skills and an equally well tuned memory. I make it a point to retain information."

"Anybody ever tell you that you can be one scary guy?"

"It has been mentioned on occasion." It was Chris' turn to grin.

They sat quietly for a moment, and Chris was surprised to find it almost as comfortable as he had been earlier in the day with Buck. "You don't have to stay here Ezra."

"Neither do you. I can appreciate your desire to avoid returning to an empty home this evening. I remind you that not only is my guest room available, but my liquor cabinet is quite well-stocked."

Chris hesitated, not sure that this was what he had had in mind for the evening. Ezra, as usual, read his mind.

"I intend to retire early to finish this book, and to get a good rest, with the intention of having a productive day at work tomorrow."

"Tomorrow is Saturday."

"Then I shall find an alternate outlet for my productivity."

He debated briefly with himself, until Sarah's voice whispered the previous comments in his head again, and he chugged back what was left of his beer. Flagging down the waitress, he tossed enough cash on the table to cover both bills and stood. Ezra nodded his thanks to the young woman as well, as the two friends headed out together.

M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7-M7


End file.
